Haddock: The Fish the Devil Touched

Would you eat a fish that had been marked by the Prince of Darkness himself? You may have, without knowing it. 

Haddock is one of the most valuable food fishes of Europe, both fresh and smoked.  The fish has long been popular due to its delicate flake and tender texture. Early cookbooks mention “rizzared” or sun dried haddock, as a popular fare on breakfast tables. After the Industrial Revolution, English fishing vessels travelled far and wide for haddock in order to satisfy a booming demand for fish and chips.

One of the identifying features of the haddock is its large blackish spot above each pectoral fin. Because of this mark, the haddock has the unfortunate reputation as being the fish the Devil touched, a belief brought to Newfoundland with English settlers. This spot is known in Newfoundland as the devil's thumb-print, which the Dictionary of Newfoundland English describes as being “black marks on haddock's back - from a belief that the devil once grabbed the fish, which then got away.” 

One version of the legend says the mark was created when St. Peter and the Devil were fishing.  The Devil caught a haddock, but St. Peter freed the fish.  As it swam away, the Devil tried to grab it. The black mark represents the Devil's fingerprint, and the dark lateral line along the side of the fish represents the scratch marks from his devilish nails as the fish slipped out of Satan’s grasp.

More righteous souls claim that the marks were left by the finger and thumb of St Peter when he opened the fish’s mouth to take out a coin. It is another good story, but the humble haddock is a salt water fish, and could not survive in the fresh water of the Sea of Galilee. 

So was the mark on the haddock burned there by infernal powers? 

Only the haddock, and possibly the Devil, know for certain.

Exciting news! Haunted Ground ebook is on sale this week for just $4.99!

Our friends over at Flanker Press have announced that for this week (April 6 - 12), all e-book versions of Haunted Ground are just $4.99!  

In this collection of ghostly tales, I will introduce you to old legends, including spectral Viking longships, encounters with ghostly ferrymen, and strange voices on the trapline, while exploring classic elements of local folklore such as tokens and premonitions, bad weather lights, and the Old Hag herself. In addition to historical tales, you will also come face to face with some of the province’s eeriest urban legends, from the mysterious Red Eyes of Glovertown, to the chilling west coast Webber, to the Phantom Drummer of Conception Bay North. With leaping witches, dancing devils, phantom locomotives, and even a ghostly kitten or two, there is no mistaking that you are exploring truly haunted ground. 

You can find your copy here: 

Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/haunted-ground-3

Amazon

https://www.amazon.ca/Haunted-Ground-Ghost-Stories-Rock-ebook/dp/B075RLMTRD/

Barnes and Noble

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/haunted-ground-dale-jarvis/1127125662?ean=9781771176231

Apple

https://books.apple.com/ca/book/haunted-ground/id1287205676

The Phantoms of Fishot Island, on Newfoundland's Northern Peninsula

Fishot Island is the largest of a group of islands in the southern entrance to Hare Bay on the northeast side of the Great Northern Peninsula. The island has long been a favourite of French and Newfoundland fishermen.

As early as 1547, Fishot Islands appeared on French maps as Ille de ficho and the unusual name has had many variations such as fico, Y Fichot, I Feeke, and Trois Fidiot. The late Reverend Howley, who had a great interest in Newfoundland name lore, suggested the word may have referred to a post or signal staff fixed in the ground, derived from the French noun fiche (meaning stake or peg). In true Newfoundland fashion, early English visitors ignored the meaning, and adapted the French name, pronouncing it “Fishroad”.

Throughout its long history, Fishot Island attracted its own folklore. Fishot Island has been suggested as one of the many possible locations of the bedeviled Isle of Demons. While Fishot Island is only one of several islands claiming to be the legendary isle, its claim is strengthened by the fact that in more recent times it was known as the location of a Jacky Lantern or Will o’ the Wisp sighting.

Strange moving lights are not the only local ghost, it would seem. In November of 2003, I was contacted by “May” a woman who had spent her early childhood years on Fishot Island. As she puts it, “in my lifetime I have experienced many encounters with the paranormal and supernatural world.” Fishot Island provided more than one of those encounters.

May lived on the island for about ten years, and one experience in particular still remains strong in the woman’s memory. It involves a house that had been deserted for many years, for as far back as she could remember. One day the girl decided to take a flashlight and go exploring.

She recalls, “it was a big house, close to mine actually. I was young and full of curiosity. Molasses was a big thing back in those times. I decided to go in the house and look for some.”

The girl opened the door to the house, and entered. When she walked into the kitchen, and looked around, she saw that the table was empty. She went up the stairs to explore the upper part of the house, and finding nothing, came back down. What she saw next scared her, for there was a jar of molasses on the table.

“As I turned around, I saw a white round light in the corner of my eye,” May remembers. “I assumed it was the sun shining in through the window.”

She turned and walked back out along the house’s long narrow hall. Suddenly she felt a cold sensation on her neck as if a hand had been placed there. The girl was petrified with fear, and froze in her tracks without turning around. When she found the courage to move, May took off running.

“I got outside,” the woman says, reminiscing about that day. “I looked back and I swear I saw an old woman in the window, in a white gown. She looked at me with no expression on her face. She shut the curtains. I was never going to go back there again.”

Dale Jarvis is an author, storyteller, and professional folklorist who splits his time between St. John’s and Clarke’s Beach, Newfoundland, Canada. The proprietor of the St. John’s Haunted Hike ghost tour, Dale tells ghost stories, supernatural stories, legends and traditional tales from Newfoundland, Labrador and beyond. He is also the storytelling coach for Shakespeare's Fairytales, running April 28th-29th, 2016. Get your tickets here!

Deserted House Image: Pixabay.com / CC0 Public Domain

Unveiled: The research and stories behind “Any Mummers ‘Lowed In?”

Unveiled: The research and stories behind “Any Mummers ‘Lowed In?”
Wednesday, December 3rd, 7pm.
Engaging Evenings Series, The Rooms Theatre, St. John's
Folklorist and author Dale Jarvis presents an illustrated talk on the work that went into the making of his most recent book, “Any Mummers ‘Lowed In?” Using examples from historical records, oral histories and collected photographs, Dale will explain how the book came together, and share stories from his research.

Presented as part of the Mummers Festival

The White Horse - A Newfoundland tale of superstition and loss

A fisherman named Albert has a strange encounter with a phantom white horse. Only too late does he realize what terrible tragedy the ghost horse presaged. This traditional tale of superstition and folk belief from Proctor’s Cove, Placentia Bay, Newfoundland, originally recorded in the 1920s, is here retold by folklorist and storyteller Dale Jarvis, and is taken from his book “Haunted Waters: More True Ghost Stories of Newfoundland and Labrador.”

Download the mp3.

The music track for the tale is “Salted Caramel” by Black Twig Pickers and Steve Gunn, and is licensed under a Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 International License. Additional sound effects by swiftoid and geoneo0 of freesound.org. Photo "White Horse" by Richard PJ Lambert/Flickr (CC BY 2.0).

Marguerite de Roberval and The Isle of Demons

An island once populated by so many devils that French sailors would not go ashore without a crucifix in hand hardly sounds like an ideal tourist destination. But an island off the northernmost tip of Newfoundland with that dubious distinction is becoming internationally known as a unique and romantic holiday retreat.

The "Isle of Demons" is thought to be Quirpon Island, at the top of the Great Northern Peninsula. It is associated with one of the most dramatic stories of love, loss, and terror ever told in Newfoundland. The story was popularized by a late nineteenth century writer named Charles M. Skinner, who wrote several books on native North American legends and early colonial folklore.

The saga involves a woman by the name of Marguerite de Roberval, niece of the harsh Sieur de Roberval. While sailing from France to the New World, Marguerite raised the wrath of her uncle by becoming romantically involved with one of the men on the ship. The Sieur de Roberval insisted that the girl be removed from his ship, and left on an island along their route. Skinner describes Marguerite’s marooning in highly dramatic and romantic terms. He writes,

“The girl had plighted her troth to a young cavalier who had enlisted among the adventurers on this expedition. It was of course impossible that their love-making should escape notice, and old Roberval was so incensed about it that when his ship arrived at the Isle of Demons he set Marguerite ashore there with her nurse, and only four guns with their ammunition to support life, while he held on his way.”

The woman’s lover was not about to let his sweetheart be abandoned, so he decided to join her. As Skinner describes it, “the lover sprang from the deck with gun in hand and armour on his back and swam to shore, where the three exiles ruefully or vengefully watched the departing ship.”

The three castaways worked to built a rough hut to give them shelter, and before long a baby was born to Marguerite. The birth however was not a cause for celebration. The weather grew cold, and food grew scarce. Eventually, the harsh conditions proved to be too much for the inhabitants of the Isle of Demons. The lover died first, followed by the infant. Following this, the nurse died as well, leaving Marguerite bereft of human company.

After Marguerite buried her three companions, she found she was not alone. Skinner states that imps and spirits “walked over the island, peered out of the mist, whispered in the night, called and whistled in the gale”.

The woman remained on the island for three years, shooting game and tanning hides to make clothes. In her third winter, another sail appeared on the horizon, and again she built a signal fire.

As the ship drew closer, Marguerite waved frantically. The smoke and the strange figure dressed in furs terrified the French fishermen onboard, but the captain forced them to anchor and go ashore. They were amazed to discover that the hairy demon was in fact a Frenchwoman. They took Marguerite back to France, where she lived the rest of her life as nun.

Upon her return to France, Marguerite claimed that she had been hunted by large beasts, and had heard screaming demons in the night. Charles Skinner writes that “these evil ones had horned heads and wings and howled like a crowd in the marketplace.”

Modern visitors not concerned about imps and demons can still land on Quirpon Island. If they wish to spend the night, they need not worry about staying in a crude hut like Marguerite’s. The island is now home to the Quirpon Lighthouse Inn, operated by Linkum Tours.

International response to the location has been very positive, but one must wonder what sort of rating Marguerite would have given the island if she had pursued a career as a travel writer, instead of retiring as a nun.

On the dreamy silence broke the beating of a drum...

Recently, I wrote about a ghostly drummer story, versions of which appear in Turk’s Gut (today’s Marysvale) and Brigus, in Conception Bay. Since that article was printed, I have come across another version of the legend, though without a location.

This “new” version of the legend was included in an article entitled “What About Ghosts?” which was printed in the September-December issue of The Feildian for 1905.

The Feildian was the magazine of Bishop Feild College, a Church of England academy for boys. The magazine ran from 1893 to 1960, and was created to foster school feeling, and to chronicle the College affairs. It was the first publication of its kind on the island, and included news, letters, sports and reports from school alumni.

The author of the piece was identified only as “H.” and in the article, H claimed to have put to rest a story about a ghost. Sadly, the mysterious author did not mention the location of the ghost story, only that it was at the mouth of a bay, “on the bank of a river close to a mountain gorge containing a lagoon.”

“The lagoon was reported to be haunted by a deserter from a French war ship,” writes H, “who had died in a fisherman’s cottage in the bay, after several years spent in the woods, in fear of recapture. He had been a drummer on the ship, and he swore to the woman who had nursed him on his death bed, that he would haunt the lagoon, a weird and lonely spot. For years his drum was heard beating at certain periods, as his spirit marched through the woods, and many a time parties visiting the place fled in terror from its supernatural roll.”

One evening, the author was sitting in the twilight after supper, camped on the reportedly haunted spot.

“My guide was that the brook washing up, and I was placidly smoking, seated on a stone,” writes H, “with my back against a telegraph pole, the line of which ran through this country for many miles. Suddenly on the dreamy silence broke the beating of a drum, and my man came running back with a scared face. I at once recognized the sound, but could see no ghost, so... I kept my head, and began to look for the spectre.”

“I soon noticed that angry gusts of wind were coming down through the gorge,” he notes, “and as these passed,the drum rolled out, I observed a tremor in the telegraph pole. This gave me a clue, and immediately afterwards I saw the ghost in the wire. In short, the drum was the wind playing on a mile of telegraph wire, and reverberating in the cliffs as the ‘spouts’ came down the gorge from the North East.”

I suspect that the story, regardless of where it took place in the province geographically, is what folklorists would call a “migratory legend” - story supposedly based in historical fact, but which is which is found repeatedly at different places, having a similar plot but with place names or topographical information changed. Locals might believe their version to be “true,” but very similar versions, equally “true,” pop up a little bit further down the road, or in the next bay, or even in a different country.

The ghostly drummer legend is probably related to other local legends, like the famous story of Piper’s Hole, near Swift Current on the Burin Peninsula. There, a ghostly piper has been playing his instrument for centuries, possibly giving the location its name.

According to some, the phantom musician was a piper in the French army in the eighteenth century. In this version of the legend, the French and English clashed in battle at spot nearby called Garden Cove. Supposedly, the spirit of the French soldier lingers in the river valley, mournfully playing a tune. In other versions from the same area, the musician was a Scottish bagpiper, killed in a hunting accident by an Englishman.

If you know of another ghostly piper or phantom drummer story, email me at dale@dalejarvis.ca.

The Boulevard's Black and White Ghost

Shortly after midnight on Remembrance Day in 2011, “Karen” had a strange experience whilst driving alongside Quidi Vidi Lake. She was in St. John’s from out of town, and had just dropped off a friend, when a strange apparition came up onto the road in front of her car.

“I was driving along the Boulevard by Quidi Vidi Lake, between the bandstand and military base,” Karen remembers. As she did, something caught her eye, moving very quickly up the bank from the direction of the pond.

“I saw a smoke-colored figure come over the bank and onto the road directly in front of my car,” she says.

Thinking she was about to hit a person, the woman reacted immediately.

“I slammed on the breaks,” she describes. “ I’m glad there was nobody behind me, because I would have gotten rear-ended.”

When she did, the figure in front of her completely dissipated.

“I did not just see that!” the woman thought to herself.

“It happened all in the matter of seconds, split-seconds,” Karen says. “It was very, very fast. It was just like somebody walked right out in front of my car.”

“I’d never seen anything like that before in my life,” she states. “ I couldn’t believe it had happened. I was on my way over to my sister’s house, and I told them as soon as I got there.”

Karen says that while she had experienced strange things in the past, meeting the figure on The Boulevard was her time seeing a full-bodied apparition. She was shocked by how detailed the figure was.

“It was a man about 5'9" and slim build, dressed in older style clothing, wearing a salt/pepper cap, linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and linen trousers. His clothing appeared to be messed up, or worn-in. I could see that he had dark hair and stubble, and he looked to be in his 30s.

Karen describes the man as being a dirty, smoky colour, almost more like he was an antique photograph than a real person.

“He looked like he was in a black and white picture, and when he dissipated, it was just like cigarette smoke!”

“I will never forget it,” she says.

I was interested in Karen’s story for a number of reasons. The motif of a ghostly figure vanishing in front of a car is one which I have come across numerous times, and anyone who has watched movies with a paranormal theme will have seen this acted out before. I was also interested in the location of the haunting, as it is a spot I have not heard a ghost story from before.

It is quite common for me to hear a story that only feels like part of a larger narrative. I have heard stories about ghostly ladies on the stairs, or strange occurrences in old houses, often without any explanation for the cause. When it happens, people such as Karen often then contact others, such as myself, to try to make sense of what has happened, and to fill in the blanks in the story.

Sadly, in this instance, I do not have a lot more to add. The area certainly has a lot of history, but I have not heard similar stories from the neighbourhood, so I do not have a lot to go on. If you have heard any similar stories about this area of town, let me know! You can email me at info@hauntedhike.com

The Lady in Blue - A Fairy Story from Spaniard's Bay

Near Seymours Road, in Spaniard’s Bay, off in a field, away from the road, there was once an old stone walkway. Part of the path was lost when new houses were constructed along the road, but the sections further out still exist, known to those who grew up in the area.

One of those locals is Sheena Butler, who has an interest in local stories of the unexplained. According to Butler, that track up behind Seymours Road goes by the name of “The Fairy Path.”

Around 2000, Butler and some friends went out picking berries.

“We were picking partridge berries just in the field across from my house,” says Butler. “It was just a stone path that was called the fairy path. I don’t know why it was called the fairy path, it is just what it has always been called.”

The berry-pickers looked up, and there, a fair distance off, they saw a woman.

“She was dressed all in blue,” remembers Butler. “She was an older woman; she had on a blue dress. She was also picking berries.”

The woman was far away, but they could tell she was an older woman with greying hair. She had on something that resembled an old sundress.

“Are there any good berries up there?” they yelled out to the woman.

“She never answered, she never looked, she just went on doing her own thing,” says Butler.

A moment later, the woman straightened up somewhat, and struggled up over the hill.

“It honestly looked like she had a bad back,” recalls Butler. “She was hunched over, and when she stood up, she didn’t stand up straight, she had that hunch.”

“We said, ‘let’s go see what she was looking at’ and we went up over the hill,” says Butler.

When they got up over the hill, there was not a soul to be seen.

“It was as if we had been talking to nobody,” says Butler. “She went up over the hill, and we never saw her after.”

Locals called her “The Lady in Blue” and the berry-pickers that day were not the first to see her.

“She has always been around the fairy path,” explains Butler. “We don’t know her name, we don’t know where she came from, but she is there.”

Other people have had strange experiences along the fairy path. One dark night, around the time the berry-pickers met the Lady in Blue, another group went out along the path. They took a candle, and were sitting around, telling stories.

The candle started to flicker, and then went out. Thinking it was just a breeze, the friends lit the candle once more, only to have it go out a second time. Then, they heard movement in the bushes behind them, off to one side.

The movement stopped. Then, on the opposite of the storytellers, there was a movement in those bushes. Listening, the group then heard what sounded like creepy, eerie laughter off in the bushes.

The friends took off back to the safety of their houses, leaving the darkened path to its fairy owners.

If you have heard a similar story from Spaniard’s Bay, or know of another Newfoundland and Labrador location that is fairy-haunted, email me at info@hauntedhike.com

(photo courtesy Frank Kovalchek / CC BY)

Buried Treasure, Moving Rocks, and a Ghostly Guardian

The richly-named Money Point is located about a mile from the now-abandoned community of Ireland’s Eye, at the southwest end of Trinity Bay. There, a large pile of rocks is said to hide a fabulous treasure.

An old story from Ireland’s Eye tells that there was money buried on the point, a treasure of some sort. The rocks are said to look like they were put there by hand.

In a recorded interview done in the late 1960s, an Ireland’s Eye man remembered the pile of rocks, and a strange story associated with it.

“They had to be put there, carried there,” said the man. “There is no place around where the rocks are piled up, like they are at Money Point.”

“I’ve heard them say that a person was digging for it one time,” he remembered, “and when then went back in the morning, the rocks would be placed back again. They’d go up and move them one day, and when they’d go up the next day the rocks would be back.”

I love it when I hear pirate treasure stories, particularly ones I have not come across before. There are certainly no shortage of them in Newfoundland and Labrador. There are rumoured treasures buried on Signal Hill in St. John’s, on Tracey Hill in Red Bay, and at Gallows Cove in Torbay. Each of those have a ghostly guardian of one sort or another, ranging from a headless African pirate to a ghostly dog.

What is equally interesting is that there are also a number of Money Point legends, from all over the North Atlantic. There is a Money Point in County Cork, Ireland, and another Money Point in Chesapeake, Virginia on the Southern Branch of the Elizabeth River. The Virginian Money Point was named, as local folklore goes, for treasure the pirate Blackbeard buried off of the shores of Money Point.

Yet another Money Point is located near Ingonish, Nova Scotia. It was named after a cove where a French galleon was purportedly wrecked. For years after, gold coins kept washing ashore, giving rise to a local legend spread by old-timers. They said that one could stick a piece of tar on the bottom of a long stick, and pluck up gold and silver coins close to the shoreline.

Legends move and blend together, so I am curious about the Trinity Bay Money Point story. Is it possible that the early settlers in Ireland’s Eye, moving in from Conception Bay and from Dorset, England, brought stories of ghostly pirates and buried gold with them? Or is there truly something hidden under that strange pile of stones?

One Trinity Bay story tells of a man named Paddy who heard about the Money Point treasure, and travelled to Ireland’s Eye with a metal detector. Apparently, he left empty handed, and no money was ever found. So, if the treasure remains hidden, you might still have the opportunity to strike it rich.

Just beware of the ghost, and the moving rocks.

photo: stone wall, English Harbour, Trinity Bay, taken by Dale Jarvis.

Man in the Meadow: A Ghost Story from Fogo Island, Newfoundland

Recently, I came across an old story from Fogo Island which concerns a spot named Banks (or possibly Banks’s) Meadow.

Fogo native Barry Penton informs me that Banks was a Fogo name in the 1800s. According to the Anglican Church Diocesan Records, William Banks, a bachelor of Fogo, married spinster Jane Waterman at St. Andrews Church in Fogo on the 14th of April, 1844.

“The last record I have of is John Banks in 1883, who was a planter in Back Cove,” says Penton. Near Back Cove, there is also a Banks Cove. And given the family was in that area, it is likely the meadow was named after a member of the Banks clan.

“It's the field down below Brimstone Head,” says Penton. “Locals refer to it as Second Field.”

One evening in the early part of the twentieth century, a girl and her aunt were going to a meeting. Flashlight in hand, they followed the path up through Banks Meadow.

When they got part way across the meadow, they saw a man. He had a little short coat on, like men wore at that time. As it was a cold night, he had the collar turned up.

“There’s a man there,” said the girl, pointing him out to the aunt.

“Yes,” she said.

When they drew near him, the girl spoke to the man.

“Good night, sir,” she called out, but he did not answer. The girl made to step one way, and he stepped back. The women passed by, and the girl looked behind them. The man was still there, standing still. She looked back again, and he was still there.

When the girl looked back a third time, the man had vanished from the middle of the meadow.

“Aunt Liz, that man is gone!” she cried.

“Oh no!” said the aunt.

“Oh yes he is, he’s gone,” said the girl. At that point, the two women made their way through the meadow, as fast as they could.

At that time, many people in the cove claimed to have seen the man in the meadow. It was said that he was more like a shadow than a man. Even those who got close to him could not recognize any features.

One night in winter the same girl was heading home, alone. The snow lay crisp and undinted. As the girl came up to the meadow, there was not a footprint to be seen in the snow.

She could see the lights in the houses of the cove, and could hear dogs barking, but for some strange reason, she couldn’t find the path to get home.

No matter which way she turned, she couldn’t seem to find the path across the meadow. She turned around and went back to the place she had started from. Then she set out a second time, with the same result. When she got to the meadow, there was not a footprint anywhere, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t find the path.

The girl went back down to her cousin’s house instead.

“You’ve got to go home with me tonight,” she told the cousin. “I can’t get home!”

The cousin walked her back up to the meadow, and when they got there, they found that the snow was all trampled to pieces, just to one side of the path.

When the girl looked, she saw a set of man’s footprints alongside her own.

“It don’t look like I’m the only one out tonight,” said the girl. “There’s someone gone astray there.”

The cousin got the girl home safely, and she put the incident out of her mind. A week later, however, she was visiting the home of the only woman in the cove to have a radio. A group had gathered to listen to the radio, and were telling stories.

The group started talking about a man who got lost coming up across the meadow the week before. He had crossed it many times, but nothing strange had ever happened before.

The girl asked when he had gotten lost, and discovered he had tried to cross it just before she had.

“He wasn’t the only one,” she told the crowd, and then shared her strange tale.

“There was something there,” she said. “I couldn’t get home.”

The girl’s father told her that there had been a grave there on the meadow at one point, but that nothing remained to mark it.

If you know a story about Banks Meadow, or have heard of the ghost on the path, write to me at info@hauntedhike.com.

The exploding Lion, and other mysteries of a lost ship

The SS Lion was one of the first wooden-wall steamers to be used in the Newfoundland seal fishery, making her first voyage to the ice in 1867. The ship went to the annual seal fishery for fifteen years,
sailing under such masters as Francis Ash and Alexander Graham, and brought in a total of 170,125 pelts. (See Shannon Ryan's history of the vessel here.)

Sometime around Old Christmas Day, January 6, 1882, the ship disappeared. All hands vanished into the sea, never to been again, with the exception of one lone body.

A small amount of debris was found near Baccalieu Island, and popular explanation of the day was that that her boilers had not contained enough water and, as a result, had exploded

The will of one Amelia Power from September 1883 directed that “the sum of eighty dollars be reserved from my estate for the purpose of supplying a headstone to the memory of late husband Charles Power, lost on the steamer ship “Lion” January 1882 with suitable text or inscription for myself and him.”

Even visitors from away, years later, were struck by the sadness of the disaster. The Hon. John Macdonald, a Canadian senator, wrote the following for the Globe newspaper after a visit to Newfoundland and Labrador in 1888.

“Approaching Trinity we came to the celebrated island Baccalieu, where on a lovely, clear night in January, 1880 [sic], the steamer Lion, with a large number of passengers on board was lost, a clergyman and his young bride of a week being among the number. The circumstance gives a melancholy interest to the island, which has become identified with the disaster from the fact that a body, that of a Mrs. Cross, whose husband I saw at Trinity, was found there, but whether the vessel blew up or struck the bold coast and instantly went down is to the present moment enveloped in mystery.”

While many shipwrecks are associated with ghostly tales, the wreck of the Lion seems, for some reason, to have attracted strange tales in abundance.

One of the stories was written up by Michael Francis Harrington in the Atlantic Advocate, in February 1960. In his article, Harrington references a letter which was written by a resident of Catalina just after the loss of the vessel. The letter concerned a dream that a relative of the captain had experienced before the wreck:

“On Old Christmas morning, about half-hour before daylight my wife woke me in a fit of crying, telling me she was dreaming that she saw the Lion steaming along very slowly in Baccalieu Tickle. She was as she thought looking at her for some time going along very slowly. All of a sudden she saw her blow up and sink immediately. She fancied she heard a noise like a cannon in her head. She also saw at the moment of the explosion, her cousin, [Capt.] Patrick Fowlow, knocked off the bridge with his head gone from his body.”

Other strange tales include that of a man who was warned by a fortune-teller on St. John’s harbourfront not to book passage on the Lion. The man heeded the warning, and gave up his ticket, saving his own life.

Newfoundland writer P.J. Wakeham, writing in 1974, included references to two separate sightings of a ghost ship believed to be the Lion. In one sighting, fishermen “met the steamer Lion crossing the Bay and saw her cabin lights aglow as they changed their schooner’s course to avoid collision. The phantom ship bore down on them and then as silently and as suddenly, she altered course and disappeared into the darkness.”

Ghost story search - looking for haunted tales of Cape Spear, Newfoundland

North America's easternmost point is certainly an atmospheric spot, as photographers well know.

Surprisingly, there is very little written about Cape Spear's ghostly history, though there are rumours of the building being haunted by William Shields, who installed the light and died in a gun accident.

I'm curious about your experiences. If you've had something paranormal happen to you at Cape Spear, of if you've heard of a ghost story for that area, please let me know. You can leave a message below, or email me at dale.gilbert.jarvis@gmail.com 

Daring escapes, murdered pirates, ghost ships and more

Daring escapes, murdered pirates, ghost ships, buried treasure, tragic drownings, and headless phantoms: it is all in a night’s work at Signal Hill National Historic Site in St. John’s, Newfoundland.

Or at least it is for storyteller Dale Jarvis, creator of the award-winning ghost tour, the St. John’s Haunted Hike. No stranger to strange stories from old St. John’s, Jarvis has created a new storytelling show for Newfoundland’s most historic hill.

Ghosts of Signal Hill is Jarvis’s newest work: an evening of ghost stories, historical tales and strange adventures. His spooky stories are spun out for eager listeners by lamplight inside the historic Queen’s Battery Barracks, overlooking the Narrows, the entrance to St. John's Harbour.

“There are ghost tours in other historic sites across Canada,” says Jarvis. “Halifax Citadel has a ghost tour, for example, and it seems like a perfect fit for St. John’s. And you couldn’t ask for a more dramatic setting than Queen’s Battery to tell a tale.”

The last North American battle of the Seven Years' War between England and France was fought on the Hill in 1762, after St. John’s had been captured by the French. In September of that year, the British reclaimed the town, marching overland from Torbay.

“The 1762 Battle of Signal Hill provides a great backdrop for the show,” says Jarvis. He portrays a real historical character in the piece, a role he shares with local actor Jedediah Baker.

“Lieutenant Ranslaer Schuyler was a member of the British force sent to take back St. John’s,” explains Jarvis. “We’ve brought him back to life for this show, so to speak!”

Jarvis is passionate about local history and folklore, and believes storytelling is a great way to get people interested in what is often portrayed as a dry and dusty subject.

“When someone starts going on about dates and battles and generals, people tune out,” says Jarvis. “But when you tell a story about real characters, with drama and intrigue and mystery, people love to hear more. That is part of what makes this show much fun. That and the ghosts, of course!”

Ghosts of Signal Hill runs every Friday night at 8pm until September 16th. Tickets are $15 ($10 for kids 12 and under) and are cash sale only, available at the Signal Hill National Historic Site Visitor Centre. There is no performance on Canada Day, July 1st.

For more information, contact :
Dale Jarvis
www.hauntedhike.com
709-685-3444
info@hauntedhike.com

High resolution promo photos available at:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dalejarvis/sets/72157626756149194
Photo credit Chris Hibbs

Name that ghost! #namethatghost

Well, the little photograph of what might (or might not) be a ghost in the historic Newman Wine Vaults in St. John's, Newfoundland is getting a lot of attention: reports on CBC radio and television, VOCM radio, the internet, and as of this morning, apparently, it has made the CNN Morning Express television program!

Read the article and see the video here.

What the ghost needs now is a suitable name, and suggestions are already starting to trickle in on twitter and facebook.  So far, names include:

The Lone Tourist
Vinnie
Port-ia
Porthos (which I like!)
Swayze
Charlie
Bob
and (most obviously) Newman

Got a suggestion? Let me know!

Haunted Victoria Street

The Legend of Paddy Mahony's Gold

The story of Paddy Mahony's gold, a tale of buried treasure and its supernatural guardian, from Horse's Head, Little Colinet Island, St. Mary's Bay, Newfoundland, Canada.

Horse's Head was inhabited by one Paddy Mahony, who dwelt in what was referred to as a "solitary hut". Somehow it was revealed to the lucky Paddy that a great treasure was to be found in a certain place near Horse's Head. Paddy lost no time, and set out with shovel in hand in search of the buried treasure.

What he found at the bottom of his pit, and what was found to be guarding it, can be discovered by listening here.

Read by storyteller and author Dale Gilbert Jarvis from his book "Haunted Shores: True Ghost Stories of Newfoundland and Labrador" published by Flanker Press.

OggVorbis and streaming audio versions of the story available from archive.org